Jolene
by Hortense J. McPseudonymous
Summary: Two cliches walk into a bar. The third one ducks.


Okay so Sheldon is standing in her doorway in pyjamas at nine o'clock in the evening looking like the least intimidating creature in all creation and saying, "If you were a man we'd have to have a fight now."

"We would?" Pyjamas and robe and slippers and socks. Penny grins at him. "Awesome. I would so totally kick your ass."

He nods. "Undoubtedly."

And then he continues to stand there. Eventually she sighs and steps aside. "Would you like to come in?"

"Yes."

She goes to the kitchenette and takes out another glass while he makes his way across the floor, skirting the laundry there like landmines, and she's done by the time he has landed safely on the couch.

She sits down beside him, handing him his drink.

"What is it?" he asks.

She smiles exceedingly brightly. "Chocolate milk."

He stares at her suspiciously and she takes a deep drink from her glass of the same and it makes a moustache and he makes a face.

"Go on, it'll help you sleep," she says. "Speaking of which. What's keeping you up so very late this time?"

He takes a deep breath. Looks uncomfortable. More uncomfortable. "Amy told me what happened the other day," he says.

Penny pauses with the drink halfway to her mouth and waits.

"She said the two of you had a sexual encounter."

And there you are. She coughs, and then finishes taking the drink.

"And that means," he continues, "if you were a man, I'd be expected to fight you."

She stares at him. Speaks slowly. "Expected by who?"

He gives her an exasperated look. "By society, obviously."

"Come on, Sheldon, that's crazy. Why would society care? I mean, even if me and Amy did do anything, which we so did not, she's not even your girlfriend, she's your friend, you've only said so yourself like a million times."

"Actually I've only said so one hundred and ni-"

"_Anyhow_. She's just a friend. Would society expect you to fight me if I got all hot and heavy with, I don't know, Raj?"

"Assuming you were still a man in said scenario? Quite likely yes, I'm sorry to say. Texas society, at any rate."

Penny stands. "I'm just going to freshen up my chocolate milk, okay?"

Sheldon runs his finger around the rim of his glass. If it were crystal and less sticky it would ring. "You're not a man, though, which puts me in a quandary."

She leans on the counter, sipping her drink. "You mean one of those big rock pits they're always running around in on Doctor Who?"

He stares. She smirks. Broadly. Playing to the cheap seats on the short bus.

"Please be serious," he says. "Your wanton behaviour has once again put me in a very unpleasant position."

"Like the back seat of a Volkswagen?"

He glares daggers. "Do you truly lack all human empathy?"

She throws her hands in the air. "Oh my God, Sheldon, it's just that there's absolutely no reason for you to be upset. Even if she _was_ theoretically your girlfriend. Amy and I did not have a _sexual encounter_. What happened was, we were playing truth or dare..."

"...and?"

"And then I paused so you could say what the fracking frell is truth or dare and I could tell you and then I could get on with the story."

"I would never say frell. Farscape makes Babylon 5 look like Blakes 7. Another series heavily predicated on quarries, I should note."

"Huh. My mistake."

"It certainly is. And I just as certainly don't need truth or dare explained to me. My sister had sleepovers all the time." His eye twitches. "Pretty much every dare had something to do with me." He drains his drink.

"Aw." She follows suit. To be social. "So anyways, where was I? Oh right. Truth or dare."

"Truth."

"No, I meant-sure, fine, why not. Okay. Let's see." She ponders. Smiles. Wicked. "Sheldon...when you think about Amy, do you...touch yourself?"

He looks even more nonplussed than she ever could have hoped for. "Well, probably," he says at length, "I mean, I touch myself all the time," and by this time she's laughing so hard she can hardly breathe.

He blinks. Shrugs. "Okay. my turn. Truth or dare?"

"Eeny, meeny, _truth_."

"When you think about Leonard, do you touch yourself?"

She looks at him sharply. He in turn regards her impassively. That is some textbook impassive regard.

"Of course," she hisses. "After all, I touch myself all the time."

He nods thoughtfully. "All right. Your turn."

"Fine. Sheldon. Truth or dare."

"Truth."

"Again? No itch to shake things up ha ha ha would you listen to me." She breathes in through her nose. Always go for the clean kill. "All right then. _Do_ you? When you think about _anyone_? Heck. Any_thing_, let's not fence ourselves in here."

"Do I-oh." And then he looks at her like she's even more of an idiot than he usually looks at her like she is. "Of course."

She deflates a bit.

"If you must know-and if this game has been any indication you apparently really, really must-I masturbate in the shower every morning, while my conditioner conditions. I find this routine to be efficient and relatively sanitary."

She stands, extracting the empty glass from his grip. "I think we're gonna need more chocolate milk."

"Okay." he says. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," she answers absently, because she's busy mixing the drinks, mixing them strong, and dares in her experience tend to require at least one hand free.

"Are you sexually attracted to Amy?"

"Dear _God_ no. I mean, um. No. I don't even-no."

"Oh. Good." And he does look sincerely relieved. She returns to the couch with their drinks and they sit in silence.

She rotates her left wrist. It makes a little popping sound. "So how 'bout that Harry Potter movie, huh?"

"Are we still playing?" he asks.

"Is it-oh, you mean truth or dare."

"Truth."

"Oh good grief." She purses her lips. "All right. Sure. Let's do this. What do you think about? While your conditioner conditions."

He looks at the door, the floor, away. "Work," he mutters.

Victory! She gives him a stern not at all trying not to laugh sort of look. "Games have rules, Sheldon. You picked truth."

"The woman in the purple shorts who stood in front of me in line at the 7-11 down the street on the morning of January 23, 2008."

"Naturally."

"Or sometimes the woman with the flaming sword on the flying horse in outer space I saw airbrushed on the side of a van in Galveston that one time."

"Ooh, I feel all tingly just hearing about her."

"Stop interrupting or we'll never get through this. Dazzler. She-Hulk. Magneto. The flying monkeys from The Wizard Of Oz. You of course but I'm sure that goes without saying. Let's see-Aquaman, especially when I get water up my-"

This time Penny does choke on her chocolate beverage. "What?"

"Nose."

"_What?_"

"It hurts, but at least it's good for the sinuses."

"You think about _me_."

"Sometimes."

"Gross."

He furrows his brow. "You pride yourself on and more often than not define yourself by your beauty, surely it must be gratifying to know that people-touch themselves-to mental images of said pulchritude. I mean I've no doubt you were already acutely aware that Wolowitz-"

"Oh God please stop."

"All right." He takes a sip of his drink. "Truth or dare?" Challenge in his eyes.

"Dare. Definitely dare."

He points at the floor in front of the door. "I dare you to pick up that pair of soiled underpants and put them where they belong."

She rolls her eyes. Goes over and picks them up and they are not _soiled_ and waves them in the air and then drops them on the floor again.

He scowls at her. She shrugs. "This isn't laundry day, so that's where they belong. My turn. Truth or dare?"

"I'll take dare, it seems quicker."

"Why Sheldon, that is astonishingly open-minded of you. Okay, let's see-ooh!-I dare you to call Amy and talk dirty to her."

He looks unhappy. "Extrapolating from my childhood experiences I don't think it's right for a dare to inconvenience anyone who has not willingly opted to participate in the game."

"Fine. I'll do it for you." She knocks back the rest of her drink and grabs her phone, jabs random buttons. "Oh, Amy," she moans, breathes, giggles, to the nothing on the other end, "how I ache to once more passionately kiss your nether whatsit-" She grins at him. Giddy. Naughty. Maybe kinda drunk.

His face is pale and his glass is empty and his knuckles are sharp and white holding it.

She puts down the phone. "Tough room," she mutters. "Okay, fine, you're right, that's not an acceptable dare."

"I want some more chocolate milk," he says sourly.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," she says. For either of them. Truth. "Um. It's not actually chocolate milk."

"I know."

"...oh."

"Penny, are you going to pursue a relationship with Amy?"

"I already told you."

"No you didn't. You said you weren't sexually attracted to her but that's not what I'm asking."

"Listen, we-"

"Just answer yes or no," he snaps.

"Listen, Sheldon, you said dare so I dare you to shut up and listen."

He crosses his arms and presses his lips together in vexed obedience.

"What happened was we were drinking," she says, "and we were playing silly games, and Amy grabbed my boob-so, hey, there's something you two have in common-and I said thanks but no thanks, in words I hoped would be comprehensible to your species, and that was most definitely that. In short, first off I didn't start it, and secondly, no, I am not going to try and steal your girlfriend."

He sits silent and sullen and all folded up like a plaid origami crane.

He doesn't say she isn't his girlfriend.

"Okay," Penny says. "Your turn, Sheldon. And just so you know, I'll be picking dare. Truth and I are through."

"Truth or dare," he says apathetically.

"Dare."

He smiles. It's not even a little bit real. "I dare you to give me more chocolate milk."

"Fine." She stands up and stomps the four steps to the kitchenette, grabs the Caramilk liqueur out from under the island and the milk carton from the refrigerator and takes an ostentatiously sloppy swig from each before bringing them over and banging them down on the coffee table. "Help yourself."

He shakes his head. Sadly. Sad plaid crane.

She sighs. "Sheldon. I swear. On whatever you want me to swear on. Amy was just doing what she thought she was supposed to do. In that, you know. In that social situation. It wasn't sexual."

"It was, though," he says. "She told me so. That's why we would have to fight now. If you were a man."

Penny grins. But it's weak. It's thin. "Even if I were Aquaman?"

He studies her face like a map of a place where he's lost and it's dark and he doesn't speak the language. "It's your turn," he says, eventually.

"What?" She blinks. "Oh. Fine. One more round. Truth or dare?"

One more round.

"Truth," he says.


End file.
